A Dream Weekend: A Tale From Blythe Cove Manor Read Online Free PDF Page B

last any longer than the drive home, and for that he felt sorry.
    He missed the woman he’d loved and married.
----
    I t all started with a phone call.
    Alex and Chrissy, their twelve-year old daughter, had gone to the grocery store for a gallon of milk and a sack of potatoes several hours before. It wasn’t all that unusual that what should have taken fifteen minutes had lengthened into hours. Chrissy had discovered maps at the tender age of four and had been fascinated ever since.
    She’d first mapped their home, then their yard, then the street. Alex would drive her around the area as Chrissy took notes on new streets to add to her drawings and penciled data base. By age thirteen, she’d reached out to local government and private cartographers. She used Google Street View and the computer’s mouse to drive the streets of Albany and the highways of China and beyond. She was happy because at such an early age she knew what her life’s work was to be.
    And it all unraveled when the phone rang late on that rainy Saturday afternoon in March.
    “Mrs. Campbell?”
    “Yes,” Paige answered cautiously.
    “This is Sergeant Mark Evans of the Colonie Police Department.”
    Paige’s heart skipped a beat. “What happened?” she asked, dreading the answer.
    “There’s been an accident.”
    Paige swallowed, her mouth going dry. “How bad?”
    “Pretty bad, ma’am. Your husband and daughter have been taken to the Albany Medical Center.”
    “And?”
    “Witnesses said an SUV ran the red light and T-boned your husband’s car.”
    “And?”
    “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any other information.”
    “Thank you. I’ll—I’ll go there right now.”
    “Good luck, ma’am.”
    Paige hung up the phone and looked around their orderly home. A batch of towels tumbled in the dryer and she wondered if she ought to fold them and put them away before—
    Then she caught herself. What in God’s name was she thinking when Alex and Chrissy were hurt—and badly, too, if she’d understood what the officer’s tone conveyed.
    Paige grabbed her coat and purse and headed out the door.
    The gray sky was beginning to darken on that first day of spring as Paige drove a little too fast to the hospital, hoping she wouldn’t grab the attention of a traffic cop. She parked and practically ran toward the Emergency Room, bursting through the automatic doors into the ER’s lobby. A line snaked in front of the receptionist’s desk and she was sure she would jump out of her skin during the five-minute wait for her turn.
    “My husband and daughter were in a car accident. The police called me.”
    “Name?”
    “Campbell. My husband’s name is Alexander. My daughter is Christina.”
    The receptionist’s eyes darted back to her computer screen. “Mr. Campbell is in unit three.”
    “And my daughter?”
    The receptionist glanced at her screen again. “You need to speak to Dr. Sharma. I’ll put in a call.”
    Panic filled every molecule of Paige’s body. Why wasn’t Chrissy assigned an emergency cubicle—they’d been brought in together?
    “Please follow me,” the receptionist said, raised the counter on hinges that kept those in the lobby at bay, and led Paige to a small room. “Dr. Sharma will be right with you.” She gave a half-hearted smile, left the room, and closed the door.
    The cell-like room was no more than five steps across. Painted a soft blue, it contained a loveseat and a couple of chairs. The prints on the wall were of pansies. Summer flowers.
    Paige couldn’t stand to sit and paced the room. She knew—she already knew what this Dr. Sharma was going to say, but she wouldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe the worst. Not until she saw for herself, until she could touch—kiss—her sweet baby girl. Still, she made no move to leave the room.
    Paige only had time to pace three or four circuits before the handle rattled and the door opened. A young dark-skinned man entered.
    “Mrs. Campbell?” he asked,